In Dreams
by Jlovesallfandoms
Summary: AC4 SPOILERS AHEAD! When the babe was finally in her arms, her breath hitched. Tears started to fall from her eyes then, and upon her child. For she knew who the father was, right and then. There was no mistaking it. "Kenway," she whispered. a Kiddway fanfiction, also posted on my tumblr.


_Before you read: Yes I know this is different from the storyline and this doesn't coincide with the canon timeline, but since this is an AU, I took some liberties._

_Also, this was inspired by the song In Dreams. _

_Also also, this was posted on one of my tumblr accounts as well; sassmasterkenway_

_also also also, sorry if there are some mistakes in here and if this is poorly written. I just wanted to write this as soon as possible. This was done within two hours._

_So please enjoy and tell me what you think. I need someone to share my kiddway feels with *cries myself an ocean and drowns*_

* * *

**In Dreams**

Anne knew of her friend's affair with the dear Captain Kenway. Anne knew even before she saw Mary lying on the beach the day before she and the crew set sail, and she knew before she saw Edward sailing his Jackdaw out of the docks of Nassau, leaving Mary behind. Anne knew before the night when she and Mary were together below deck, when Mary chose to tell her. A bottle of rum was in her hand, and she gnawed on the cork until it popped out the bottle, and she then spit it out of her mouth. The bottle was already half ridden before any words came out of Mary, or Anne even.

"Have you ever been with a man before, Mary?" Anne asked. Candlelight illuminated Anne's fiery red hair and the delicate pink flowers placed behind her ears. Mary handed the bottle to Anne, and she took a long swig while Mary took her sweet time to answer.

"Aye,"

Anne nearly choked on her rum with some spilling out of her lips while she sputtered for air.

"Is that so hard to belive?" Mary snorted while Anne wiped her face clean.

"No, it's just… surprising." When Anne was finished, she passed the bottle back to Mary. Anne winked and scooted closer to Mary, "How was it? Did he know how to do it, or did he fuck like a dog?"

"He knew." Mary took off her coat and sat up from the barrels they sat on, and went to lie on her cot with the bottle of rum in hand staring at the candlelight. She laughed. "Jaysus, he knew."

"Who was it then?" Anne laughed as well, both of them already drunken with rum. Mary didn't answer, and instead took another long sip until the bottle was empty. "Are you keeping secrets from me?" Mary still didn't answer, and instead tossed the bottle to the other side of her small quarters in the ship. "Tell me, was he a sailor like us? Or perhaps he was a sweetheart before you started pirating…"

"He was a captain." Mary's reply was short, but Anne's suspicions of the man's identity were already confirmed.

"When?" Anne's voice was but a whisper now. His name didn't need to be spoken aloud, for both already knew who was being discussed. So Mary told the story of the day Edward returned to the Great Iguana, only weeks before she herself set sail with Rackham's crew. He returned before his final encounter in search for the Observatory. She tried to talk sense into him, telling him to work with the Assassins, but he took none of her reprimanding. Later that night she found him at the beach bonfire, a full bottle of rum in hand, and a few empty bottles at his feet. His Jackdaw was docked at the port, and the full moon rose high behind his flags.

"A sailor on the beach handed me a bottle of rum himself, and I sat next to Kenway. He was piss drunk by the time I saw him that night. I listened while he told me of how he was brought up as a child, an' the stories of his childhood, one particularly of a jackdaw. I told him of my own childhood, and my brother who died at a young age. He talked like a wise man, 'n yet he was the drunkest man on the beach. Forgetting the quarrel from the morning, we talked like old friends. With our backs on the sand together, we watched the stars as the fire danced next to us, forgetting everything else in the world. I'm not sure how long we were there 'til he kissed me."

Anne gasped, interrupting Mary's story. "An' that's when ye slapped him, right?"

"No, _that's_ when we fucked."

Anne choked on air. "Why in the world…. Jaysus, Mary. That sounds nothing like ye. You two really must have been far from sober."

Mary stayed silent for a while, and Anne was sure she had fallen asleep, but she was still staring at the flames above the candle, with a tight frown on her face.

"Christ, ye really liked him, did ye?" Anne's voice softened.

"It don't matter much now. He's out there making a fool of himself trying to capture the damned Sage, and I'm here sailing further and further away." Mary cleared her voice and bent to blow out the candle near her cot. "'night, Anne."

Anne didn't move from her spot, despite Mary's quarters completely pitch black. A place in her heart knew Mary was lying, and a place in her heart was sad for Mary.

* * *

"Of all the money that 'ere I had, I spent it in good company." Mary sat on a barrel top deck, watching the ram of the Kingston, Rackham's ship, crash against the waves of the Caribbean Sea. She wore one of Anne's dresses, with a brown corset tied and a black coat above it. Her lips were painted red and her eyes were lined with kohl, while her black hair was let loose freely on her shoulders, braiding with the wind.

"What's that yer singing?" Anne sat down on the barrel next to Mary's, whilst corking open a bottle of rum. The sun was beginning to set, and most of the sailors were already piss drunk in the bottom deck. After taking a long gulp of rum, Anne handed the bottle to her friend.

"It's a song my mother used to sing to me." Mary said, still looking upon the horizon. Anne nodded and took the rum back from Mary. A long silence dragged upon the deck, until Anne cleared her throat.

"I saw ye with that lad the other night. Daniel, was it?" Anne watched as Mary breathed deeply before answering.

"Aye," The night before, the crew successfully plundered a brig, claiming all its treasures and supplies. The crew celebrated top deck, with bottles of rum being tossed amongst the likes. Anne saw Mary sneak below deck, holding the hand of a man who looked all too familiar to another she's known some time ago.

"He was the lad with blonde hair and blue eyes?"

"Aye,"

* * *

"Of all the money, that 'ere I had, I spent it in good company."Anne's voice sang through the walls of her cell, and echoed throughout the entirety of the basement. Mary closed her eyes and focused on her friend's soothing voice, singing the exact song that Mary had taught Anne before, while they sailed together. Mary remembered singing it on the docks of the Kingston, Rackham's flagship. Mary remembered the wind whipping through her bandana, and the jolly feeling of being free, of being able to fly amongst the seas. All of which was over, when they were captured by a King's Ship. Most of the crew aboard Rackham's ship was already piss drunk below deck, and she and Anne were the only putting a real fight. Mary could still remember clearly the day of their hearing. Anne's husband was already sentenced to death and kept in a cell somewhere in the prison, along with the rest of the crew. Mary and Anne were the only two given a real hearing, given their sexes. Kenway was there, she remembered. She could still see the image clear in her mind, the image of Edward's change of expression as soon as he saw her and Anne in front of the crowd, with ties on their wrists and soldiers plotting their sentence.

"We're pregnant!" Mary shouted to the crowd. All the men watching them instantly started to bicker amongst themselves. Anne smiled to herself and started to nod, further inciting the men to argue louder. The heat of Jamaica burnt against her skin, and sweat started to bead along her forehead. Her heart beat faster as the witnesses continued to roil. "Do you all hear that?"

"Aye!" Anne shouted, "For ye can't hang a woman child with child, can ye?"

The man banged on his desk with his mallet, yelling for the witnesses to quiet down. "If what you say is true, then your executions will be stayed, but _only_ until your terms are up."

"Then I'll be up the duff the _next_ time you come knocking!" Anne winked at the crowd and Mary chuckled as the witnesses started to mutter profane remarks.

"Remove them!" The soldiers behind Mary grabbed her shoulders and lead her and Anne back to the cells. Edward stood as well, and for a brief moment, they truly saw each other. His mangled blonde hair was slicked to his forehead, and tied messily away with a bandana. His ocean eyes stared at her, the first time after their night together so long ago. Mary saw the questioning in his eyes and the sympathy in his heart, and Edward saw the bravery and wit in Mary. As the soldiers continued to push Mary along, she turned her head so she could still see Edward staring at her. He was mouthing something to her, something she couldn't understand. Was it an "I'm sorry", or "How", or "Goodbye", she wasn't sure. All she knew was that would be the last time she would see her dear friend.

* * *

Mary's scream echoed throughout the prison walls, with the blood pooling around her feet. The pain was unbearable, as if a thousand steel knives were being ripped out of her, and wired chains braiding around her spine. Her chest ached and she could feel her sweat on her forehead as her blood mingled with her dress. She could hear Anne shouting for help in the cell near her, but none came.

Seconds became minutes, and minutes built on hours. The child only came after nearly a day's worth of labor. When the babe was finally in her arms, her breath hitched. His eyes weren't ocean blue like any possible father he could have had, but instead seemed to change in the light. In one second they seemed grey with hazel specks, and another they were as blue as the sky above Nassau, the sky she missed dearly. Tears started to fall from her eyes then, and upon her child. For she knew who the father was, right and then. There was no mistaking it.

"_Kenway_," she whispered.

It was then that she heard the sounds of soldiers' footsteps banging against the floor of the prison, rushing to her cell. She clutched the baby closer to her chest, forbidding any harm to fall upon him. The soldiers ignored her screams and her weakened thrashes as they pulled her child from her arms. With all her heart, she tried to claw at the men's faces, but they only beat her with the side of their swords as another soldier ran away with her child.

"Bring him back to me!" She yelled, but it was useless. Within a second, they closed her cell again. Within a second, she was alone.

* * *

The fever took her hours ago. She was already passed out in the corner of her cell, bones shaking and shivering. Anne was screaming senseless to guards in front of her cell, but it was useless. Mary wasn't awake to hear the creak as her cell was opened again.

"Mary?" His voice was soft as he tried to wake her. "Mary, it's me. Edward."

He bent next to her and touched her cheek. Her skin was as hot as fire, he knew, but never accepted. He refused to accept it.

"Edward?" Anne's voice was of panic when she realized someone has broken into her friend's cell. "Who's this fella?"

"It's alright Anne, he's a friend." Edward assured Anne before returning his gaze to Mary. His heart was beating fast, and he still refused to accept her fate. "What's wrong with Mary?"

"She's ill." Ah Tabai helped to support Anne's weight as she wobbled towards Edward.

"And her child?"

"They took him, no idea where." Anne's voice was soft as Edward looked to Anne with disbelief, water clouding his blue eyes. Anne started to scream with pains of her impending labor, and Tabai did his best to help and quiet her.

"Can you walk?" Edward asked Mary's limp body. When she didn't respond, he lifted her up himself, with haste to escape the prison. "Lean on me, Mary. Come on."

"I… I can't." Mary's voice rasped with pain and she continued to breathe heavily and gasp as her lungs worked hard to let her live her final moments. Her hand was clutched over her side, which still ached from the birth. They walked a few steps together while Mary did her best to put her arm around Edward's shoulder.

"Come on, that's it!" They stopped again, to let Mary lean fully on him. "You're alright!" His voice shook more now, ever in denial. They continued to waddle a bit further, with their bare feet against the cold stones of the prison. Her head hurt as if it was pounded against stone, and she felt as if she's been doused in fire. None of her limbs obeyed as she ordered them to move, yet Edward was there to lift most of her weight for her, until the pain was too much.

Mary's hand stretched a wall nearby, and she bent over, fully giving up. "Stop!" She begged, "stop please." She wasn't sure if she was begging for the pain to stop, or perhaps for Edward to let her die, or maybe even for her child. Edward took none of it and continued to lift her arm around his shoulder.

"I ain't leaving you, dammit! Lift your arm!" He ordered. Mary continued to gasp and seethe in pain, letting Edward walk for her as if she was a limp rag doll.

"It's no good." She whispered. They turned the hall and the door was there. Her freedom and her escape was so close, yet seemed impossible to reach. Edward managed to walk a bit more before hoisting her fully into his arms.

"I ain't leaving you nowhere." He spoke slowly. She closed her eyes slowly, succumbing to the pain. "No bloody way." She felt a tear fall onto her chest.

"Put me down, Edward." She would have cried as well, but she already accepted her fate.

She felt another tear on her chest as she was slowly and gently placed on the stone floor. She opened her eyes again to see the man she might have loved, had she had a clearer mind, and had he been able to stay in one place for more than a week. Both were so foolish souls, and she almost laughed at the insanity of it all.

"Don't die on my account. Go."

"You're such a pain in the arse." His response was quick, and he tried to smile but when he blinked his eyes he couldn't ignore the tears readily falling. "Dammit, you should have been the one to outlast me."

"I've done my part." She looked at him again. "Will you?"

"If you came with me, I could. We could have sailed together on the Jackdaw, living a life of fortune and…" He placed his hand back on her arm and leaned closer while muttering ideas of insanity. Both knew it would never have happened. "Mary?"

"The child… he's a Kenway." Mary didn't know of any other way of saying it. She would have said to save him, and she would have said to let him live a life she never had, but she knew she only had a few breaths left. "I'll be with you, Edward." She tried her best to smile now. "I will."

When she closed her eyes, she was offered the peace she was promised as a child. She was in a place with love and fortune and friends and in a place amongst the stars, along the ocean, in between heaven and hell.

* * *

It took years before Edward found Haytham, and years more before it was safe enough to go and claim Haytham himself. Jenny and Tessa stayed at England while Edward took the Jackdaw once more and sailed to Jamaica. Feeling the wind whip against his hair and his growing beard returned him as a young man. He could hear the voices of his old friends laughing on deck, with Anne shouting at him to use caution while sailing rough seas, Thatch and Hornigold and Vane laughing heartily with each a bottle of rum in hand, and he could see Stede watch the seas crash against the Jackdaw. But he didn't see the woman who he wanted to see most, not until much later.

His son was taken upon the soldiers, and taught to kill. Despite being a young boy, they put him to work instantly, guarding the prisons. As soon as Edward used his old skills to obtain and save the child and set his eyes upon the boy for the first time, he knew it was true. He had the Kenway chin and forehead, but he had her eyes. They sailed to London together, and the boy barely asked any questions. It took a while to explain the truth to the child and he didn't believe anything until Edward told him of his mother. The boy started to cry then, and Edward cried with him.

"What's your name, lad?" Edward asked, with his hands on the wheel of the Jackdaw. The boy sat behind him, in the exact fashion his mother used to sit.

"I wasn't given one." The boy said.

Edward was silent for a while, remembering the memory he tried so hard to forget. "What of Haytham? Do you like that name?"

"Yes, but why that name?"

"I suppose your mother would have liked it. It was the name of her brother, after all."

It was then that he felt her hand on his shoulder. He knew that what he has done, all the things in the past were set right. The last task at hand was finished. Her last words echoed in his ears, and he met and talked to her even, but only in dreams.


End file.
